Stuck At The End Of The Line At The Compassion Window

February 19, 1996|By Bob Greene.

Americans are a compassionate people. At least we pride ourselves on being that way; ours is a nation that has a centuries-old tradition of extending a hand to the down and out, of reaching into our own pockets to help those who, through no fault of their own, have pockets that are empty.

So there must be a reason many Americans are so unimpressed with the frequent cries to improve conditions in prisons and jails. Protests over cramped and unsanitary animal shelters are likely to attract more supporters than the average improve-the-prisons campaign; you are far more likely to find a sympathetic ear if you plead the cause of saving the rainforest than if you try to upgrade a national prison system bursting at the seams with humanity.

A person with whom I have discussed this issue before--"I have reached 83 years, I am on a roll, and I don't want some thug to become angry and decide to knock off the old man," he informed me, asking me not to use his name this time around--sent me a newspaper clipping about American troops in Bosnia. He had highlighted a part of the news story that dealt with the way American military personnel in Bosnia are living compared with the way soldiers lived during World War II and Korea:

"Instead of just chilly tents and frozen foxholes," the story reported, "the Army is expected to supply the Bosnia deployment with modern 16-acre heated tent cities where 500 GIs at a time can rest, do laundry, take a shower or watch a video."

"Criminals are being arrested and incarcerated at a great rate," he began. "The only problem is what to do with them. There is much concern because the courts issue edicts that these prisoners must be given treatment that equals that of, say, hospital patients. Warm rooms--one to a room--smoking privileges, television and on and on, and if these amenities are not provided they resort to filing suit. And minor criminals are being released to make room for the more violent.

"I need not tell you what is wrong with this. Politicians say we need more jails. Well, we don't. If our boys can be sent abroad to protect some deserving and perhaps not-so-deserving groups and are put in tents, then these convicted persons can certainly live the same way. Millions of dollars for palatial prisons, with live entertainment, schools for college degrees? No! If tents are good enough for these military men of ours, who are guilty of nothing, then certainly they are good enough for criminals."

Allowing this fellow a little room for hyperbole--"palatial prisons with live entertainment" makes it sound as if the average felon is staying at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas instead of in the state hoosegow--his sense of frustration is undoubtedly widespread. Actually, his proposal to store the prison population in tent cities is quite humane, compared with other plans advanced over the years by our fellow citizens. Depending on whom you listen to, prisoners should be dumped on (A) remote Pacific islands, (B) the moon, (C) Bosnia itself . . . when it comes to prisoners, great segments of the population would rather not see or think about them.

Which is part of the explanation here, of course; because the rest of society does not have to look inside cellblocks, it makes it easier to ignore the way life is lived in many prisons. Yet that does not provide a complete answer to why Americans seem not to care much about the prisons.

The rest of the answer? It probably has as much to do with utter national exhaustion as anything else. We send troops around the world in an effort to bring a peaceful way of life to remote outposts most Americans will never see, while we are resigned to doing without that peace and tranquility in our own crime-ridden cities. We watch as many among us, including children who have no other option, live in absolute squalor. It's not that Americans necessarily want prison inmates to have unbearable lives--it's just that the line leading up to the compassion window seems to grow ever longer, and there is a resigned sense that, if anyone has to step to the rear, it should be the people who have elected to break the rules: the prisoners. Not the prettiest of thoughts, but these aren't the prettiest of times. Tents? If soldiers can put up with tents. . .